


Dress Me in Soft Kisses

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Clothing, F/F, Rimming, Teasing, fashion - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 15:10:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15776607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: Eleanor misses getting distracted by Max while she gets dressed.





	Dress Me in Soft Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Black Sails Femslash Week - Clothing/Fashion

 

Eleanor gets dressed out of habit these days. It’s routine. She rises, washes, pulls her clothes on while thinking of the day ahead. There’s no pretty eyes lingering over buttons or sweetly coy looks over her stockings. 

But every once in a while as she dresses, she remembers how it was once more.

  *  *  *

Once there had been many mornings like this, where she had risen nude from her bed, bare skin still smelling like the night before, like Max. Max lounging on the bed behind her, coaxing her to return to her arms. Often Eleanor held firm and managed to get dressed without letting herself be distracted. But not this morning. 

She had started to get dressed, pulling on her shirt and her vest. She had been in the process of buttoning it up when Max’s hands crept around from behind her, reaching up to cup her breasts. Eleanor watched her in the mirror, the way Max’s hands held her, her fingers spanning over the curves.

“Remember last night,” Max whispered, her breath sweet on Eleanor’s neck. “How I stroked you like this?” Her thumbs brushed up over Eleanor’s nipples, teasing them into erect nubs, urgently pressing against her shirt.

“I remember.” Eleanor told her. Of course she remembered. It had only been a few hours before. The Max in the mirror smiled at her and Eleanor felt the heat pooling low in her cunt.

“Mmm.” Max kissed her back. “And then I did this.” Her hands moved down to encircle Eleanor’s waist, stroking her hips. 

“I remember that too.” Eleanor’s breath quickened. She remembered what Max had done next too. Max had bade her sit on the bench before her dressing table and spread her legs as Max knelt between her thighs.

“Here I think I will deviate from the pattern.”

Max pushed lightly at Eleanor’s backside until finally she leaned forward against the dressing table.

“What are you doing?”

“You will find out soon enough.” Max whispered, lifting Eleanor’s skirts.

Eleanor gazed at herself in the mirror as she waited. Today she had a meeting in the afternoon, and perhaps there would be word from a ship arriving in the bay. She hoped it would be Flint; she could do with some good news.

Max’s hands caressed her buttocks and then Eleanor inhaled sharply as Max’s tongue stroked down the cleft of her ass. 

“Oh,  _fuck_ , Max.”

“You taste so sweet.” Max purred against her. She pressed the tip of her tongue inside Eleanor’s hole, teasing her delightfully.

In the mirror Eleanor watched her face grow flushed and warm. She wondered if she always looked like this with lovers, softer, more vulnerable. She wasn’t sure she liked it. To be honest, she didn’t like how Max made her feel. She didn’t like how vulnerable it made her. Vulnerability was weakness and Eleanor prided herself on no longer being weak. She had grown out of that young girl frightened of everything in the strange new island. She had taken charge of the island and there was no place for vulnerability now.

But Max, Max had only to look at her and Eleanor’s spine went limp and her knees buckled and she wanted so many things it was unreal that she could still think. Max with her limpid eyes and cheekbones so sharp and beautiful. Her breasts made Eleanor long to kiss them, and she loved the svelte smoothness of Max’s stomach and her cunt, god, Eleanor loved her cunt. 

Max, with her sharp and quick, and velvet tongue, that same tongue that she was now using to provoke Eleanor’s stubborn body into surrendering all over again. This was such fucking good pleasure. Max knew how to tease her body and lure it to the dark and wondrous depths. Pleasure Eleanor had never known before, and when she looked at Max, she felt her heart beat in her chest like it belonged to Max instead. 

“Max, Max, Max…” She cried, half sobbing her lover’s name as Max drove her over to the edge, her hands holding Eleanor firmly by the hips. 

And while she was still recovering from that orgasm, Max rinsed her mouth with wine, and then returned to where she stood, slipping her fingers around to the slit in Eleanor’s skirt, teasing her through her drawers, rubbing her clit until Eleanor shouted weakly aloud and came again.

 *  *  * 

Now, there was no distraction during the morning. No teasing, no pleasure, no Max.

Eleanor’s fingers faltered on the cloth round her neck. She stared at herself in the mirror. For a moment she let herself see the sadness still lingering in her eyes.

And then she composed herself and finished dressing. She smoothed her skirts, gave her reflection a sharp nod, and went out to face the day. She was Eleanor Guthrie, and she was no longer vulnerable to anyone, not even her own heart.


End file.
